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Artificial like television.

Your honest heart - even when it feels ugly to you.

"So this is how it ends and begins and ends again – that feeling
I get when one me dies and another chooses to live, when a chapter reaches its conclusion,
when the last page is blank, when the pen runs out of ink and the song proceeds without a
note left to spare, fading into the vast space of nothing that sucks the world dry, your
bones dry, my soul dry.
- Krystalle Sierra Franz